


The Cupid Computer

by almaasi



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Bickering, Deep Space Memes, First Kiss, Fluff, Illustrated, Julian realises he’s bisexual, Lonely Julian, Love Confessions, M/M, Matchmaking, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Julian, Post-Canon, Romance, and fights all the computers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:14:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21995068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/almaasi/pseuds/almaasi
Summary: Feeling glum after breaking up with Ezri, Julian accepts Miles’ gift of a popular computer program from Earth, which claims to be able to match anyone to their perfect companion. Only with some tweaking will the program allow Julian to find out how well he’d match with Garak, who’s still living on Cardassia. Surely a 99.6% match is a good enough reason for Garak to come home.
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Comments: 52
Kudos: 350





	The Cupid Computer

**Author's Note:**

> This fic contains mentions of Julian's attraction to Miles and Vic.
> 
> At the time I wrote this, I kept trying to write Garashir fics shorter than 10k but there was something about these two that repeatedly puffed up the word count, at least for me. I’m pretty sure it’s because Garak can’t just say “no”, he says “At this point in time, doctor, I feel rather strongly disinclined to acquiesce to any and all suggestions you’ve made thus far,” and I suppose that’s, like, 48% of why I love him. (The remaining 52% is because, well, Gay Murder Lizard With Anxiety, Obvious Crush, And Cute Tummy.)
> 
> Beta'd by Amara, with writerly assistance provided by anupalya~!

Miles took one look at Julian and uttered, “ _The hell happened to_ you _?_ ”

Only then did Miles’ face glitch into existence on Julian’s oval viewscreen. He looked a little grainy through all the space interference between DS9 and Earth, but the picture cleared up quickly.

Julian hunched forward with his chin in his hands. His chin never left his hand as he mumbled in reply, “Broke up with Ezri.”

Miles stared for a moment, then sighed, which became a flat half-chuckle. “ _Bummer. What, um... How did it go down?_ ”

Julian drew a deep breath through his nose, shoulders and eyes rising. “You know most of it already, really. It was just – little things. The holosuite games, the sex, my work, _her_ work— All those absurd irritations just piled up and up and up, and— Well.” Julian hung his head. “Who’s even left on this station I can talk to about it besides her? I book a counselling appointment to figure things out, except I can’t be complaining about _her_ and expecting her to stay professional, can I? And who’s she supposed to talk to when _she_ needs support? Kira suggested she break up with me for both our sakes... So she did.”

Julian clutched his face with his palms, groaning. “This is why there used to be _rules_ against mental health professionals dating their patients. It always goes south sooner or later, doesn’t it?”

Miles hummed sympathetically. “ _Sorry, Julian. You really loved her, huh._ ”

“With everything I had,” Julian said. He folded his arms and leaned back into his squashed sofa cushions. “But what good is love when it always ends like this? I’m never going to find my soulmate, Miles. This thing with Ezri was the best I’ve had, but—” he flung out a hand, “it clearly wasn’t meant to be, was it? And now I’m alone again.

“I mean!” Julian pushed off the sofa and started pacing in front of the viewscreen, “you’re on Earth with your family. Odo’s off swimming in goo. Kasidy’s got her baby. Jake _zones out_ when I talk to him. Kira – well, Kira’s never been busier. Quark’s fine but I can only handle so much of him per week. Vic’s _great_ , but after an hour or two he starts hinting I ought to stop drinking, leave the holosuite, and go home to sleep, and that’s no fun. Ezri’s... _beyond_ sick of me. It’s been a year and _Sisko’s_ not back yet – puh, as if he’d want to hang out with me anyway. And Garak! Garak hates what’s left of Cardassia but he insists on staying down there anyway. At least with everyone else, I can understand _why_ they’re not here, but _Garak’s_ excuses seem to be getting thinner every time I ask. It’s driving me crazy. That horrible grey lump can’t even be bothered to send me a letter more than once a month. It’s like he doesn’t even _care_ that I miss him.” With a thump, Julian sat back down in front of Miles. “Miles, dare I say it, this might be the loneliest I’ve ever felt.” He looked away, trying to hide his tears.

Miles sighed slowly, and for a long time. “ _Sorry,_ ” he said, quietly. “ _Really._ ”

“You know as well as I do how hard it is to get people to like me,” Julian said. “And then, once they do like me, the war ends and everyone leaves! It’s almost making me miss the war. Almost.” He groaned and rubbed his entire face with both hands. “I just... I need _someone_. Someone who’s actually _right_ for me.”

“ _You and the rest of the galaxy,_ ” Miles chuckled. “ _Human nature, right? Apparently a craving for good company extends to practically every Humanoid species on Earth. There’s this ridiculous game making the rounds down here, claiming it – pff – helps people find their ‘soulmates’ or what-have-you._ ”

Julian lifted his chin. “What sort of game?”

Miles caught Julian’s interested tone, and coughed out a wary laugh. He hesitated, then said, “ _It’s this computer program that’s taking everyone by storm down here. Just a brainless li’l knick-knack that, uh... tells you your perfect match. Friendship or romance or whatever; it lets you pick._ ”

Julian frowned. “What’s ridiculous about that? That sounds like exactly what I need. I’m fed up with temporary relationships, Miles, I want something that’s guaranteed to stick.”

“ _It’s really not that good, Julian. It only gave Keiko and I a score of eighty-four percent._ ”

“What’s that mean?”

“ _It means it’s a cruddy program that doesn’t actually understand how love and trust and mutual respect works, that’s what. Sure, we bicker all the time, but that’s meaningless in the grand scheme of things._ ”

“Still, eighty-four percent, that’s not bad, is it?” Julian asked. “That was more than our chances of winning the Dominion War and we still won. So come on, then. Let me try this game of yours. Can’t be _all_ bad.”

Miles grumbled. “ _Look, I’ll send it to you, but don’t start chewing me out when it sets you up with Quark and tells you you’re meant for each other._ ”

“Pff. Honestly, at this point, Miles, if someone tells me Quark’s the one, I’m inclined to believe them. My own judgement on these things is clearly _light_ years away from sound.”

A nearby padd bleeped as a message arrived from Miles. Julian reached for the padd and read the subject line: _THE CUPID COMPUTER ♡♡♡ Find Your Perfect Match With 3 Easy Questions! ♡♡♡ ~Open to Redeem Your Unique Code~!!_

Julian snorted. “Okay,” he said. “Maybe I’ll take this thing with a grain of salt.”

“ _Try a sackload_ ,” Miles agreed. “ _The game’s for bloody teenagers. God knows why Keiko and her friends got so excited about it._ ”

Julian eyed the subject line again, feeling his heart sinking.

  
**※**  


The gang Julian hung out with these days were very different to the folks he used to spend time with, and were even harder to gather together in one place on a regular basis. The fact they gathered tonight, the night he needed them most, was nothing short of a miracle.

Julian perched on a stool at the central table in Quark’s, hands around a soothing hot chocolate, while beside him Kasidy bounced her baby boy, cooing, while Nog and Jake exchanged some kind of collectible metal doodads that Julian was forbidden to touch. Kira was turned halfway away, eyes on a padd, nose in a Romulan ale, looking distracted.

“A slice of hesperat souffle for the ladies,” Quark announced, serving Kira and Kasidy, each plate piled with a side of salad. “And macaroni and cheese for the discerning gentlemen,” he added, somewhat judgmentally, giving Jake and his own nephew two steaming bowls of creamy, plump pasta.

“Now,” Quark said, eyeing Julian, “nothing for you, doctor?”

“Just this,” Julian said, forcing a smile as he patted his hot chocolate. “I’m not that hungry.”

“Suit yourself,” Quark said. “But nothing gets a man over a breakup faster than good food. Tell you what, I’ll make you something off the menu. Anything at all.”

Julian snorted. “No thanks.”

“How about a little romp in a holosuite?” Quark urged. “Got a new Betazoid Pleasure Palace program, never been tested out before. Which means the holographic women are essentially viiiiirgiiins...!”

Julian scowled. “Nooo, thank you.”

“Oh, go on, Julian,” Kira smiled. “He’s gonna keep asking until you buy something.”

“No.” Julian put down his mug. “If I wanted to waste my time I’d just play that stupid matchmaker game Miles sent me.”

Kasidy, Jake, and Nog all looked his way.

“You _have_ an access code?” Jake asked, leaning onto the table. “You serious?”

Julian’s eyes skipped between each of Jake’s. “You’ve heard of the game, have you?”

“The Cupid Computer? Yeah.” Jake grinned. “That thing’s banned in all Federation schools and outposts from here to Risa.”

“I can’t believe you got hold of a copy,” Nog said, awed.

Julian’s eyebrows rose. Kira’s did too.

Quark had started to grin. “This highly sought-after game wouldn’t happen to be transferable to me for a reasonable price, would it?”

“Absolutely not, Quark,” Kira said, mouth full of hasperat. “Julian, I’d suggest you erase that program.”

“NnnnOOoo,” Jake and Nog begged.

“You have to let us try it,” Jake said. “Come ohnnn.”

Kira shook her head. “If it’s banned there’s a good reason.”

“Oh, you’re one to talk,” Kasidy said to Kira. “How do you know it’s not banned just because it’s full of new and scary ideas that could shake the foundation of our society?”

Kira clutched her nose to keep ale from blasting out. “Are you kidding me?” she grinned. “It’s a _romance_ program.”

“It’s more than that,” Nog said. “It tells you how well you match with your friends, as well. And you _totally_ learn about yourself when you answer the questions.”

Julian mulled this fact over. But in the end he scoffed, and said, “Oh, what’s the harm?” He reached for Kira’s padd, and she let him take it, which made him smile. “I’m never going to use the thing. Quark, you can have it on one condition: if Kira says it has to go, it goes.”

Quark’s grin doubled in size. “Deal.”

  
**※**  


In the few hours between dinner at Quark’s and the end of Julian’s evening shift in the Infirmary, DS9 had caught fire with excitement and gossip. He heard whispers in every hallway, and urgency in every voice. “ _Did you hear? Quark’s selling access codes! Three slips of latinum—_ ” was followed by “ _I actually friendship-matched with my brother! Mom’s never gonna believe this—_ ” and then “ _Do you think I should? I know I broke up with So’vok for Petrak, but a ninety’s obviously better than a forty when it comes to sex, right?_ ”

Julian shook his head and trudged to his quarters, wondering how much damage or good any of this might have done. Either way, he had some questions for Miles. The former Chief of Engineering had rather failed to mention the fact the game was banned in practically half the quadrant.

Julian got into his pyjamas and then brushed his teeth, then went around tidying up his living room before bed, hugging Kukalaka in one arm.

But his eyes strayed to the padd on the coffee table.

“No,” he said decidedly, taking Kukalaka by the paws and looking him in the eyes. “Much too silly. Losing Ezri is one thing, but I don’t need to start hunting for someone else. Especially not so soon. That’s a sure recipe for another disaster relationship, and I’ve had _quite_ enough of those.”

He headed for the darkened entrance to his bedroom. Singed by curiosity, however, he paused in the doorway, glancing down at his bear.

Kukalaka gave him an encouraging look.

“I _have_ friends,” Julian told his oldest friend. “They’re wonderful people.”

 _But they’re hardly ever around when you need them,_ Kukalaka said in Julian’s head. The bear’s voice sounded an awful lot like Julian’s own. _And they’re not like Miles, or Garak, or Jadzia, or even Odo. You miss them more than you can bear._

_Haha, ‘bear’!_

“Oh, hush, you,” Julian said, smiling wider and wider. Then his smile dropped. “Look at me, I’m having a funnier conversation with you than I’ve had all day. I don’t even recall the last time I laughed, do you?”

Kukalaka didn’t.

Julian sighed. “Well, I suppose it can’t hurt, can it? It’s just a game. The results don’t mean anything, Miles was very clear on that.”

He swept back to the padd on the coffee table, and sat down on the sofa, bear in his lap, padd in his hands. He searched DS9’s public-access systems for the keyword ‘Cupid’, and Quark’s entry was the first in the list.

“Three slips of latinum,” Julian read, sighing through his teeth. “And after Miles sent it to me free, as well. Talk about bad choices. Seems I’m full of them today.”

He signed away his latinum with a thumbprint, and settled back into the cushions as a triumphant little tune played from the padd and some animated pink hearts danced across the screen.

“The Cupid Computer,” Julian read as the title came up. “Hmm.” He rolled his eyes. He decided to embrace the coquettishness of this ordeal, and maybe have some fun in the meantime. No point ruining the experience with bitterness, by placing too much stock in the outcome.

“ _Please state your gender preference,_ ” said the padd, in DS9’s usual computer voice.

“Um,” Julian said. “Do you mean who I like romantically? Or my own gender?”

“ _Please state your gender preference,_ ” the computer repeated.

Julian tutted. “Instructions unclear. _That_ needs fixing.”

“ _Please state your gender preference,_ ” said the computer again.

Tentatively, Julian said, “I... prefer women?”

The padd bleeped cheerfully and zoomed to a second screen. “ _What type of relationship are you looking for?_ ”

Three options were displayed on the screen.

_> Friendly_  
_> Romantic_  
_> Sexual_

‘Friendly’ was already auto-selected, blinking slowly. Julian poked it, and it stopped blinking, highlighted completely. Then he tried poking ‘Romantic’, and it selected as well, and his stomach flipped when he realised he could select all three, so he did.

Then he pressed ‘Done’ at the bottom.

With a gleeful grin, he peeked down at Kukalaka, who had fallen over backwards. Julian picked up his bear, hugged him under his chin, and peered at the padd.

“ _The following three questions are timed,_ ” said the padd. “ _Let intuition guide you, be honest, and select your answer as fast as possible. You can only choose one option._ ”

Julian understood. He hit ‘Go’.

The first question appeared, and Julian’s heart began to pound.

“ _Which do you cherish most?_ ”

_> Mind_  
_> Body_  
_> Soul_

Julian’s eyes skipped between the options, never realising he could get stuck on a simple question like this.

He never really believed in souls, yet he knew there were things in existence that could not yet be explained by science, but that didn’t mean they _didn’t_ exist. Of the three options, his soul was not the most valued, however. Easy. (Kira, he suspected, would have answered differently.)

Julian was a doctor. ‘Body’ should’ve been the obvious choice – yet he wavered. Despite all the sickness and hurt he’d seen, he still believed in mind over matter. No, all physical ailments did not stem from the mind, but boy, was a speedy recovery helped by a good mental outlook... just as a minor injury could cause a child untold mental anguish, undone again with a colourful bandage and a smile.

But ultimately, what was he, Julian Bashir, without his mind? He could exist as a wisp of consciousness and he’d be happier than he would living as an automaton or a vegetable without a thought. He couldn’t imagine himself living in contentment without the outlet of a good conversation.

The padd’s dark background flashed orange in warning – he was running out of time. In a flare of panic, Julian hit ‘Mind’ and ‘Done’, and sank down in relief.

He’d never known. Even as a physician, a tennis player, as active a man as he was – he valued his mind more. After all his parents had done to his mind... perhaps there was less reason for resentment than he’d realised. Maybe he was grateful, under it all. Even lonely, even _alone_ , his own thoughts could keep him company. He’d never _known_.

The next question, once the countdown began, was just as much a conundrum as the last.

“ _Which is most important in a relationship?_ ”

_> Gesture_  
_> Quality Time_  
_> Conversation_

‘Gesture’ could mean anything, Julian mused. A smile was a gesture, as was a box of Delavian chocolates, a pat on the back, or silent treatment after a disagreement. He supposed that was the point; it was the act of _showing_ care or love or anger, rather than expressing it aloud. He couldn’t imagine a relationship working without that... save perhaps the silent treatment. He really hated being given the silent treatment.

‘Quality Time’ was... Oh, he needed it. He needed attention. He needed someone to put aside their work and focus their eyes on him and _listen_. He needed regular meetings, a set amount of hours where he _knew_ they would be together. He wanted to look forward to it. He needed to know how long he’d have to wait. That was why it worked out with Miles. That was why his lunches with Garak kept him emotionally sustained for seven years. That was why it started to get too hard with Ezri; they struggled to find time for each other.

‘Conversation’, though. He already knew from the last question that he couldn’t really be happy without it. He was a cerebral man; he started to feel lethargic and _soupy_ without a good talk. No wonder his relationship with Ezri fell apart; they couldn’t talk anymore. They didn’t _want_ to talk anymore.

But gesture was empty and shallow without a communicative relationship behind it. And what was quality time without conversation?

Nothing, that was what.

He hit ‘Conversation’ and then ‘Done’, satisfied he had the right answer.

His heart was hammering inside him. This _was_ fun. Like flying a runabout through the space rocks of his own psyche.

Once ready for the third and final question, he hit ‘Go’ – and then stopped, realising he wasn’t ready at all.

“ _Which would you rather do?_ ”

_> Win_  
_> Lose_  
_> Draw_

Julian was stumped. He’d talked about this a hundred times with Miles, Garak, and Ezri over the last couple of years and he was still at war with himself over it. All his holosuite games with Miles featured them playing from the losing perspective, enjoying the myriad of ways to lose heroically. He couldn’t bear _failure_ , but failing on purpose somehow made it easier. But even then, so many times Julian had begged Miles for the opportunity to win, if only once.

Ezri said there was something submissive, self-destructive, or even masochistic about enjoying defeat, and after a good argument about that, Julian gave in and accepted her opinion, which left Ezri smug and Julian embarrassed. He liked to be physically dominated by people he trusted, yes. He liked to make other people happy. But, _God_ , did he also love to lead.

He thought about Garak, all those books he’d given Julian to read. In the end of every Cardassian story, Cardassia always won. That was a sentiment Garak lived by, even now, skulking down on a beaten planet still reeling from loss after the war. After all those years battling Garak over lunch, Julian couldn’t recall losing or winning. He and Garak sparred infinitely, disarming each other and drawing more swords and shields from nowhere. To reach a stalemate with a changed opinion was as pleasurable as losing heroically, or as winning. How else would the conversation go on, unless they could be on equal footing once again?

The screen started to flash, and Julian stabbed at ‘Win’, only to change his mind and hit ‘Draw’, only to then feel a pang of longing for someone holding him down, and hitting ‘Lose’, before wondering if maybe it wasn’t a convoluted metaphor about sex, and really, what did it _say_ about him if he wanted to be beaten at everything? He didn’t! So he chose ‘Win’ again— But after years resisting the urge to flaunt his superior skills he couldn’t be _that guy_ —

‘Draw’—

The question timed out before he could hit ‘Done’.

Damn. He’d never realised he was so divided over the concept. He loved to compete, that much was obvious. Tennis; battles with Miles in the holosuite, arguments with Garak, a set of darts and a flashing board; he valued those interactions. He wanted to see how it all turned out, maybe, without much care to which side he was on. For much of his life he _had_ been losing on purpose, trying to hide the truth about his genetic enhancements, wanting his friends to like him. Truly, the only things in his life he’d really wanted to win were the Dominion War and the favour of his friends.

Everything else was just a _game_ to him.

“Oh, _God_ ,” Julian rasped, head in his hand. “Is that really who I am?”

Apparently the program had accepted his indecision as a valid answer, because now it offered: “ _Are you ready to see your top matches from residents of... Space Station... Deep Space Nine...?_ ”

Julian sighed. “Alright. Yes.”

He lowered Kukalaka, eyes scanning the list that appeared on the padd. He only recognised three of the names. And to his horror, not one of these women had any more than a 30% match listed beside their names.

“Damn,” he complained.

Then he looked again. “Ezri’s not even _here_.”

He scowled, fritzing with annoyance. Miles was right, this program _was_ rubbish. He leaned forward to toss down the padd – but then he paused, and shrank back, pondering the list again.

“Computer,” he said.

The padd, and his living room bleeped.

Julian glanced up, then back to the padd. “Cupid Computer,” he clarified, and only the padd bleeped. “Save my responses to the questions but return to the part where I chose my gender preference.”

“ _Action is not recommended,_ ” the padd said. “ _This program is designed to give correct responses on first attempt._ ”

“Well, call it Human error, then,” Julian said testily. “Ezri may be a woman but Dax isn’t, so of _course_ she’s not in my list. Go back to the gender preferences. Please.”

The padd bleeped, then said, “ _Please state your gender preference._ ”

“I like any and all genders,” Julian said. “Now show me my updated list.”

He breathed in relief as he saw Ezri’s name there, right at the top, with a 73% match. “That’s better.”

He flushed with insecurity as he saw Quark’s name right underneath. “Oh dear.”

Ignoring that, he pressed Ezri’s name, and was gratified to see a breakdown of their 73% score.

“Ninety-four percent friendship,” Julian read happily to Kukalaka. “Makes sense. Forty-percent romance, though. Yeeeahh... that sounds about right. What we had was never as good as the friendship. And – mm – eighty-six percent sexual. It was good, all right, but... Ahhh.” He rubbed his cheek against his bear’s soft head. “Always thought it was missing something.”

Not so inaccurate, then. The game knew what it was talking about, clearly.

Julian went back to his list, dismayed that even his second-best match, Quark, only had a score of 50%. Nobody else came remotely close.

He wondered if seeing Quark on the list meant that Quark had selected his romantic preference to include men. If so, Julian suspected that kind of public exposure of private information had something to do with why the game was banned.

“So what do I do now?” Julian asked, looking at his useless list. “Ezri’s a bust. I really don’t feel like dating Quark, no matter _what_ this thing says. Who does that leave? A whole lot of men and women I’ve barely even heard of, who no doubt would rather go out with someone with a higher score than _thirty_. Over a thousand people on board this station and I’m a _thirty_ to _everyone_? Ugh.”

He tossed down his padd and covered his face with both hands.

After a long, disappointed sigh, he muttered, “Bet Miles would’ve gotten a full score.”

He turned his eyes to the padd. “Hey, Cupid Computer? Expand personnel pool to include Miles Edward O’Brien.”

“ _Miles O’Brien is not on this station._ ”

“I know that. Do it anyway.”

“ _Action is not recommended._ ”

“Why not?”

“ _Miles O’Brien is not on this station._ ”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake. Check Miles for a match, _please_!”

If the computer could sigh, it would have at that point. It bleeped, and Julian checked the list again, grinning when Miles’ name appeared at the top, under Ezri’s. A pang of worry stole through Julian, seeing only a 69% match...

Expanding the result let him release a sigh of relief: “Ninety-eight percent for friendship. Theeere we go.” His stomach fluttered as he saw the results that followed: 79% romantic, 30% sexual.

“Really?” He sat up a bit, staring. He felt a little hot in his pyjamas. “That’s more romance than Ezri.” He rubbed his cheek, feeling the prickle of a blush. “Then again, I _do_ love him an awful lot. I suppose if he wasn’t married...”

Breath catching, Julian hurriedly returned to his list, burning up uncomfortably. “Nope,” he said to himself. “Nope nope nope. Not going there.”

But curiosity had taken hold, and he nibbled his plump lower lip, still cooling down from his blush as he said, “Cupid Computer, can you add Vic Fontaine to the list?”

“ _Action is not recommended. Result will not be accurate._ ”

“Let me guess, because Vic’s a holosuite projection and not a flesh-and-blood person? Spare me. Just do it. I know there’s a detailed personnel file in the system.”

“ _Action is not recommended._ ”

“Oh, _fight_ me, you little—” Julian eased out a calming breath, and said, coolly, “Add Vic Fontaine. Now. If you would be so kind.”

Vic appeared above both Ezri and Miles. Seeing that gave Julian such a rush, and he fell back into the cushions, chest and groin tight and sparkly with the pleasure of self-realisation. He only had a little crush on Vic, that was all. But having this program validate all the silly feelings he’d tried to pretend weren’t really anything was just... blissful.

Julian expanded Vic’s result.

_> Friendly: 84%_  
_> Romantic: 75%_  
_> Sexual: 89%_

Julian’s heart was _fluttering_. This felt so _right_ , all written out like that. He was sure that 84% friendship score could be pushed higher if he was allowed to spend more time with Vic. Vic seemed to spend all their evenings together trying to set Julian up with someone else, when all Julian wanted was to be serenaded over and over, and share another drink, and... maybe... kiss? Vic seemed like he’d be a good kisser. Slow, guiding; always with a smile and an affectionate “pallie”. And he was just so _handsome_... Julian had basically designed Vic’s look himself, it was no wonder he’d requested features he found attractive—

With flaming cheeks and a tight crotch, Julian set aside Kukalaka, as some thoughts were far too sensitive for a bear to overhear.

As good as it was to confirm that he was very much attracted to older men, Julian was starting to feel suspicious about this computer program. How did it know things even Julian hadn’t known for certain? How could it be so accurate?

Suspicion twinged in the back of his mind, but the forefront of Julian’s speculations grew hungry, urgent, curious. If Miles and Vic got such a high score, how well might other male friends rank? Maybe things never worked out between Julian and women because deep down he wanted men?

True, his emotional connections with men _were_ always stronger than with women, weren’t they? Ezri said it had to do with wanting to fill the void his father had blasted in his heart, but Julian never cared to admit to that. He just never knew what to _do_ with women. Lust came first and he fell prey to infatuation, trying to get women into bed – whereas with men... all his infatuation presented as a desire to impress, and be friends, and _playfight_. But he realised now, it was very much the same infatuation. A blaze of delight and desire... which eventually burned out with women, because they found him immature, but remained steady with men, because they liked how he helped them rekindle their boyish urges.

A twist of a smile curled up Julian’s lips. He’d need to thank Miles later. He’d figured out more solid facts about his sexuality in these last ten minutes than he had in a year’s worth of counselling sessions with Ezri.

Julian eyed the padd.

“Cupid Computer,” he said, and the padd bleeped.

Julian swallowed.

No... bad idea...

“Add...” Julian’s breath fluttered, and he hunched down, hands wrung together on his knees. “Add Elim Garak to the list.”

“ _Action is not recommended._ ”

After two uncertain breaths, Julian decided he just wanted to _know_. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Proceed anyway.”

After a pause, and a bleep, the padd said, “ _Action is not possible._ ”

Julian looked sharply at the padd beside him, and snatched it up. “The data’s on the station network somewhere. Search for ‘Garak’.”

“ _Action is not possible._ ”

“Why not?”

“ _There is no personnel data on ‘Elim Garak’ available._ ”

“Oh, blast, of course there is,” Julian said. “I talk about him in my personal logs all the time.”

“ _All mentions of ‘Elim Garak’ are classified._ ”

Julian frowned. “Well, un-classify them then! Chief Medical Officer’s authorisation Bashir one-alpha.”

A bleep.

Julian saw the padd buffering some data, processing it. “Well?” he asked. “Add Garak to my list.”

“ _Action is not recommended. Result will not be accurate._ ”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“ _Elim Garak is not on this station, and data is incomplete._ ”

“Incomplete? What does that mean?”

“ _Elim Garak’s personal and communication logs are inaccessible._ ”

“Personal l—” Julian’s skin chilled. “ _That’s_ where the data comes from?” He groaned and set his head into both hands. He scrubbed his hands back through his hair, then said, determined to see this through, “Computer—” the room bleeped, “track my last video call with Garak to its source on Cardassia Prime. Break the firewall and access Garak’s personal logs.”

DS9’s computer wasn’t happy about that request. “ _Request denied. Action is illegal._ ”

“I know that, and I don’t care. Run the infiltration program I made in case of emergencies or reports of Garak’s death. Authorisation Bashir zero-zero-seven.”

“ _Working._ ”

Quietly, Julian wondered if maybe he was just adding to the list of bad choices he’d made today. But after breaking up with the person he’d been so sure was the love of his life, then realising he was very much bisexual, he supposed he was allowed one especially stupid decision. He _really_ wanted to know what score he and Garak would get.

After a number of seconds, DS9’s computer bleeped. “ _Access granted._ ”

“Aha.” Julian turned gleefully to the padd. “Cupid Computer, access Elim Garak’s personal logs, and add him to my list.”

“ _Action is not recommended. Elim Garak is not on this station._ ”

“Yes, well, we already have a fading long-distance relationship. It’s not like I can actually date him from up here; I just want a score. Proceed, now, or so _help_ me—”

Julian heard a bleep as Garak’s name came up, but he turned his eyes away fast, not wanting to see the score just yet. What if they got a low score? What if seven years of lunches and teasing conversations and boxes of rare, expensive chocolates and saving each other’s lives and talking about their emotionally abusive parents and arguing about literature didn’t mean anything at all? Not to mention all the delightfully fluttery, annoying, thrashing feelings in Julian’s chest when he thought about Garak’s continued absence...

He couldn’t bear to see anything under 80%. If he and Garak got less than 80%, Julian would call Miles and tell him his program was bullshit. And then he’d go to Kira and tell her the game was illegally scouring through everyone’s personal and communication logs without anyone’s express permission, and have her expunge the aforementioned bullshit.

Deep breath in...

Julian picked up the padd, and looked.

His heart soared. “Ninety-nine point six!” he exclaimed. He let out a huff of breath, stunned. “Ninety-nine...?”

He sank back, breathless.

“Ninety- _nine_?!”

Lurching forward, he thumbed at Garak’s name to expand the result.

_> Friendly: 99.8%_  
_> Romantic: 100%_  
_> Sexual: 99%_

If the sensation Julian felt when looking at Vic’s result made him tingly, seeing _this_ set off fireworks inside him. His heart was _thumping_. His mouth had gone dry, and the moment he noticed, it began to water. His head was swirling, fingers buzzing, lips prickling. He fought for a few shallow breaths, feeling multiple smiles vying for place on his lips.

“Oh, Garak,” Julian crooned, head tilting, a charmed grin rising from within. “Oh, _no_.”

Julian knew exactly how much _he_ liked Garak. Upwards of 80%, that was what he’d thought. But to get such a high score... either he liked Garak more than he realised, or— _And_...? _And_ Garak liked him back.

It all had to be there, in the personal logs. A 100% romance score couldn’t come out of nowhere.

Yet Julian struggled to think when he’d ever confessed his love in a personal log, especially about Garak.

Never?

No, not once.

...Come to think of it, all he’d said about Garak in the past year tended to be tinged with irritation, because the bastard had stayed on Cardassia, hadn’t even come back for a visit, and all his letters were either too convoluted or too short or too vague or too depressing. Julian’s invariable response to his contact was major discontent. How the hell did the Cupid Computer get ‘love’ from that?

“Too good to be true,” Julian decided. He felt a gooey, oozey, melting disappointment sinking through him. “Hmmm.”

He set aside the padd. After Garak there was nobody else he wanted to look up. He had been given his ideal match and, like the program said, that action had not been recommended. Garak was not on the station. If it was hard to maintain a friendship from so far away, Julian couldn’t imagine how much tougher a romance would be. And that was even assuming that the data the program purloined from Garak’s headquarters was even true data, and not some made-up garbage designed to fool hackers.

Knowing Garak, it was _all_ lies.

Julian slumped towards bed, hugging his teddy bear and half-wishing he’d never opened that program. Now all he could think about were the years he’d wasted, never realising the romantic potential he might’ve had with men – especially Miles, given that Keiko was the _last_ person on the station who’d be opposed to polyamory, besides maybe Kira.

And even Vic... Dear Vic...

Maybe Julian would go see Vic tomorrow. Whether the old crooner had a physical form or not, he was perfectly real to Julian. Maybe he wouldn’t mind trying out a few kisses.

Or maybe he’d let Julian fuck all his problems away, the way Julian always did. No, mindless sex with a person he couldn’t _come home to_ wasn’t what he really wanted – but hey, it would be something.

If the Cupid Computer had proved anything, it was that there was nobody left on the station he could turn to for what he truly craved.

  
**※**  


With a hum, Julian stirred from a deep and pleasant sleep – and was then ripped from the comfort of its warmth when he saw a glowing figure near the foot of his bed, smiling at him.

“Computer, lights!”

He sat up in bed, panting.

Garak’s blue ghost looked a little apologetic. “A good evening, doctor,” he said. “You’re looking well.”

Julian threw back the covers and got up, pacing towards Garak. He thrust a hand at the Cardassian’s chest, and exhaled in relief as his hand passed straight through the patterned tunic and made Garak glitch in a most un-ghost-like way.

“Holo-projection,” Julian said, looking sternly into Garak’s eyes. “One year, Garak. One year. Thirteen months. Fifty-eight weeks. And all of those with twenty-six-hour days. Twelve letters you’ve sent me. A hundred letters I’ve sent you. And... you have... a _holo-projector_.”

“Would it help if I told you I stole it tonight for the sole purpose of visiting you?”

Julian let his ire be placated. “Yes, actually,” he said, gladly. “Yes, it would.”

“Then I’ll let you believe that.”

Julian’s mouth opened, right back to furious. “What exactly are you doing here, Garak?”

“It seems,” Garak said, chin rising, either in irritation or pride, “earlier tonight, someone on board this station broke through sixteen layers of protective encryption at my home base. And, within less than a minute, had made off with some especially sensitive data.”

Julian wrung out a smile. “And you want help finding out who did it, I suppose.”

“Perhaps,” Garak said, with a twinkle in his eyes. He turned away from the bed and away from Julian, pacing out of the bedroom. Julian followed the glowing vision of Garak towards the couch, where he was now examining the room with a discerning expression, hands clasped behind his back.

“Things have changed a lot since I’ve been gone, haven’t they,” Garak said, looking at a photograph of Julian and Ezri laughing together, in a frame on a side table. Julian saw where he was looking and reached to lower the photo face-down, hiding it.

“And they keep changing,” Julian said flatly.

Garak met his eyes. “I remember you used to be such an ethical man. You wouldn’t break an arbitrary rule, let alone a law.”

Julian glanced away, uncomfortable.

“At least, so I thought.” Garak came closer, and Julian found himself missing the heat of Garak’s body and the sweet almond scent he expected, being in such close proximity to his friend. “You turned out to be a better liar than anyone I’ve ever known before, or have known since.”

Now Julian stared Garak down, daring him to offer _praise_ for keeping his augmenting a secret. It was still a sore spot, and Garak knew mentioning it directly would provoke an unhappy argument.

Yet Garak’s gaze turned fonder, and he said, too kindly, “I have _missed_ you, my friend.”

Julian covered his cool rush of gladness with frustration. “Well, you’ve got a funny way of showing it.”

“Just as you have a funny way of showing how happy you are to see me, doctor,” Garak countered, with a smile.

Julian grunted. “Oh, yes, look at me. I’m _delighted_.”

Garak rumbled a laugh, head ducking, eyes down. “Doctor, there’s no use pretending. I know you were after my personal logs. But of the thousands you looked through, you had one interest amongst all the classified information, and sought only the mentions of your name.”

He sighed, then, something sad and aching settling down over his shoulders, drawing his eyes away in guilt. “You must forgive me, dear friend. All this time passes but I still barely know what to say to you. Seven years we had together – good years, dear doctor, I promise you that – but—” Garak glanced to the turned-down picture, then away again. “I don’t belong here any longer. You know it as well as I do. In truth I belong nowhere, but Cardassia is a welcome place for me, at least. Somehow it hurts less to be in a place grieving from a broad loss, rather than grieving something more... individual.”

Softening, Julian reached out, only to have his hand whisper through Garak’s arm, causing the image to fritter away until he withdrew.

Julian wondered, in the three seconds of uncertain silence that followed, what that godforsaken computer program had ascertained from those dratted personal logs, besides a statistic.

“I’m sorry,” Garak said, finally withdrawing from Julian’s personal space. “Everything I said of you in my logs... it was simply too hard to express directly. I hope you understand.”

Interesting. Garak thought Julian had listened to the logs himself, not realising he’d only been awarded an overall result, not individual data points.

“Goodbye, my friend.” Garak reached for something off to the side, in mid-air. “I wish you all the joy in the universe, dear Julian.”

“Wait!” Julian lurched forward before Garak could end the transmission. “Garak, don’t go. Please. Not yet.”

Garak waited.

“It wasn’t me,” Julian said. “Well, no, alright – the infiltration virus was mine. I made it in case I ever needed to track you down or uncover some scheme that got you killed. It was for emergency use only.”

“Oh?” Garak’s eyeridges rose, feigning surprise, while a little smile gave away his awareness. “And what manner of ‘emergency’ struck your fancy tonight?”

Julian let out a breath, head back, eyes flicking up. “It wasn’t an emergency. I just couldn’t—” He palmed his forehead, falling to sit on his sofa with a small groan. “I was playing a game. And. Um. Let’s just say I couldn’t get a score high enough to satisfy me.”

“So you broke several laws and violated the privacy of an old friend.”

“A friend,” Julian corrected, holding Garak’s gaze as he sat beside him, the shape of a Cardassian chair pixelating around the sofa seat. “Not an _old_ friend.”

Garak managed a smile.

Julian cocked his head, and went on, “Okay, maybe I did go a bit overboard.” His eyes fell to the padd beside him, and he winced as he reached into Garak’s crotch to retrieve it.

“Why, doctor,” Garak teased, patting his navel as his image solidified again. “At least do me the courtesy of buying me dinner, first.”

“You know I would, Garak,” Julian said sourly, not looking at Garak. “If you visited the damned station once in a while.”

Garak remained quiet as Julian fiddled with the padd.

“So, what kind of game would drive you to such lengths?” Garak asked, as Julian didn’t yet elaborate. “A holosuite adventure? Or another of those insipid ‘Tetri’?”

“Tetris,” Julian corrected. “And no. Neither.” He nibbled his lower lip, then admitted, eyes closed, “It’s a childish quiz that Miles sent to me from Earth. People go crazy over it. Only earlier tonight I let Quark have my access code and he seems to have duplicated it or gotten access to a hundred more and hiked up the price, I don’t know. Seems like everyone on the station’s obsessed.”

“Would it be something a plain and simple tailor might be interested in?”

Julian chuckled. “Oh, no. You’re well above this level of triviality, believe me.”

“And yet _you_ fell prey.”

“I was – lonely.” Julian hugged himself, leaning back into the sofa cushions. “I thought I could use it to find some new friends up here, maybe.”

Garak processed that. “And? Did you?”

Julian pouted. “No. I miss my _old_ friends.”

“Just a friend, doctor,” Garak said gently, turned towards Julian. “Our friendship remains unwithered, apparently. Despite my best efforts.”

Julian smiled at him, feeling warmth tiptoeing through his chest.

Garak sighed out a deep breath, steeling himself for some silliness. “Let me try,” he said, holding out a hand. “I haven’t indulged in play for far, far too long.”

“Garak,” Julian said warningly, holding the padd away from him. “Look, for one thing, if I hand this to you it’ll just drop and break, and secondly – this... It— It’s really not—”

“It is to be taken lightly,” Garak supposed. “As any game should be. It ought not be permitted to instigate any unlawful actions on my part. Worry not, my friend; I shall not make the same mistakes as yourself.”

Julian grumbled. “I had a bad day, that’s all.” He sighed. “Okay, fine. But—” He bent over the padd, frowning as he hurriedly exited out of his list, saving the results before he did, and then looked up the game again for a fresh code. “I need to send this to you first. Do you have a padd?”

Garak reached nearby, his hand vanishing for a moment, then returning with a padd. Julian paid another three slips of latinum, and gifted the game code to Garak. Garak sat up a bit straighter as his padd bleeped.

“My, my,” Garak said, amused as he read the message headline. “ _Find your perfect match with three easy questions_. How superbly puerile.”

“Just get on with it, if you’re going to,” Julian grumped. He sprawled semi-comfortably on his side of the couch, then relaxed, as Garak didn’t seem to react with any further judgement, and was apparently quite happy to see the animated hearts dancing across his screen. Julian glanced away, but listened to the cheery music.

“ _Please state your gender preference,_ ” said Garak’s padd, in a male computer voice, far harsher and more Australian-sounding than DS9’s computer.

Julian turned to Garak, about to clarify for him that the program wanted to know what kind of person Garak was interested in, not what kind of person Garak was, when Garak announced with confidence, “I’m interested solely in men.”

Julian raised his eyebrows. He forgot to blink for a few moments.

“You’re staring,” Garak said, without looking at Julian. “Surprised, doctor?”

“No,” Julian said, somewhat defensively. “It’s just.” He sucked his tongue, then said, sourly, “ _I_ thought the question wasn’t clear enough when it asked me.”

“Yes, I’m sure it must have been _terribly_ confusing,” Garak said, casting Julian a diminishing look. “Your broad-range interest in potential partners has seemed to me rather... immense and overwrought, let’s say.”

Julian gaped, which became a breathy laugh. “Oh, leave me alone, you brute.”

“I’m not the one who begs absent tailors for attention, doctor. If I thought you wanted to be left alone I’d hardly be here tonight, would I?”

“You’re _not_ here,” Julian said, swiping a hand through Garak’s padd to prove a point.

“I am here in spirit,” Garak smiled, which Julian couldn’t exactly disagree with, sitting next to a blue ghost.

“ _What type of relationship are you looking for?_ ”

Garak pondered the options.

“You can pick all three,” Julian said. “I did. Friendly, romantic, and sexual. I think it only matches you with people who picked the same. Or maybe it doesn’t; I can’t believe _everyone_ on the station’s done the quiz already. Either way, its functionality does seem a tad problematic.”

Garak pondered more, then poked at his chunky, armoured padd three times, and the padd sang when he hit ‘Done’ at the end.

“Aha,” Garak said, as the instruction page came up.

The padd explained: “ _The following three questions are timed. Let intuition guide you, be honest, and select your answer as fast as possible. You can only choose one option._ ”

“‘Be honest’,” Julian echoed, smiling. “Oh, I dare you. I _dare_ you to answer honestly.”

Garak gave him an innocent look. “As if I’d answer any other way.”

“Puh.”

  
  


With a smile, Garak bowed his head, and thumbed at ‘Go’.

“ _Which do you cherish most?_ ”

“Mind, body, or soul,” Garak murmured.

Julian craned closer to look, but Garak shouldered him away, and glitched out as they made contact. So Julian sat back, wrenching a bare foot up over his other knee and kicking in agitation.

Julian took a breath, “Actually, Garak, when _I_ was trying to decide—”

“Quiet, doctor,” Garak snapped. “You’ve had your turn.” He frowned briefly, then poked his answer and locked it in, and smiled. Now free of the timer’s oppression, he glanced at Julian. “There’s nothing more attractive in a man than his ability to sustain a good, intelligent conversation, wouldn’t you say? Even if it is a challenge to shut him up afterwards. Such is often the way with intellectuals, I find.”

Julian plucked at a hair on his ankle, trying not to react, in case he was reading too much into Garak’s choice of words. “So you picked ‘mind’, then.”

“What else? I observe no religion; I see the idea of a soul being a figment of consciousness, thus akin to the mind. And, truly, if I cared most about my body, I doubt you and I would have shared quite so many rich chocolates, and instead enjoyed more than a mere dozen tennis matches. Now, let’s see.” Garak wriggled to get comfortable in his seat, exhaling with a content, “Ahh,” as he leaned back. “Second question, here we go.”

Julian waited, breath held, watching Garak put on a tiny smile as the game progressed.

“ _Which is most important in a relationship?_ ”

Julian froze, desperate not to give away his excitement.

“Gesture, quality time, or conversation?” Garak read. “The tagline for this game was quite accurate, it seems. How remarkably simple.” He submitted his answer.

“Conversation,” Julian supposed.

“Quite. A relationship – even one laden with grand or minor gestures, or with each partner lavished with _hours_ of attention – will eventually mean nothing whatsoever without open, if not always honest communication, dear Julian. I think you’ll find... the anger you’re currently experiencing towards me, after I’ve withdrawn from your company for all this time... is very much proof of that.” He gave Julian a slow, solemn look. “Again, my apologies. But you... understand why, don’t you. I couldn’t...” A breath in, eyes averted.

“No,” Julian said. He angled into Garak, tilting his head to catch his gaze, but failing. “Garak, no, I don’t know why. I don’t know why you’re down on a planet which has been stripped of everything you ever told me you loved about it. I don’t get it. I really don’t. Why aren’t you _here_ with _me_?”

Now Garak looked at him, a hint of astonishment glossing his eyes.

“Why aren’t you?” Julian repeated, softer. “Garak, why did you leave?”

Garak sat up by a few stiff inches, something wary shading over his eyes. “Doctor,” he said, “when you went through my files...”

“I didn’t,” Julian said. “This program did. It just scanned what you had and gave me a number at the end, a-a-a-a percentage. It told me how well you and I could... match.”

Apparently that was a surprise to Garak. “Oh. I see.” He carried on looking at Julian unsurely. “So you didn’t listen to... all my recordings.”

Julian stared. “Should I have?”

Garak’s eyelids fluttered and glanced down, uneasy.

Julian smiled back, huffing a tiny laugh. “Your secrets are safe from me, Garak. But I’ll warn you – I couldn’t sleep earlier, and... I, um, spent a while digging through this program’s inner workings. I think you ought to know that there’s a good chance your personal data can be sold to third parties and used to manipulate you into buying more games. Expect a lot of nuisance messages in your inbox.”

Garak blinked. “Charming.”

“You’d better finish playing soon, Garak, there’s a good chance Kira’ll have the program erased by morning.”

Garak smiled at the mention of Kira. “Ah, the dear Colonel. How is she?”

“Visit us and find out,” Julian said.

Garak laughed, head back, hand on his middle. “You don’t give up, do you?”

“What kind of conversationalist would I be if I did?” Julian said, tilting his head and dipping his chin. He quickly un-tilted and un-dipped, in case it looked like he was flirting. With a nervous blush, he insisted, “Hurry up with that, would you?”

“All our lunches together, and you still forget how little I appreciate being rushed.”

Haughty, but content that Julian wasn’t about to huff at him anymore, Garak returned his attention to his padd, and started the countdown for the third question.

“ _What keeps a relationship sustained?_ ”

Garak stared. Julian watched his lips part.

“I didn’t get this one,” Julian said, tentatively, aching to look at the options. “My third question was about winning or losing.”

He wasn’t certain Garak heard him. He was mouthing in silence, shaping the options on his lips over and over, a wrinkle of stress appearing beside the spoon shape on his forehead.

After the third inaudible mutter, Julian realised he could read Garak’s lips.

“Honesty... beauty... or trust?”

Julian swallowed. He watched Garak fret over his response, but still answered before the screen began to flash.

Garak lay a hand over his eyes briefly, as the game concluded. He let out a puff of breath, air rushing from his smile.

“What did you answer?” Julian asked, quietly. “What... What keeps a relationship sustained?”

“You tell me.” Garak eyed him, a sparkle of pleasure in his eyes. “How might you answer?”

Julian blinked twice, lips parting as he looked away. “Well? It wouldn’t be honesty, really. Eight years we’ve known each other and here you still are, _almost_ on my sofa. And you’ve never told me a bare truth, not once. At least not directly. I’m sure for most people honesty is... vital. But. Not for you.” A tingly realisation: “Not for me.”

Lips licked, he went on, fingers tangled together on his lap, “You love art, I know that much. You create— You _are_ an artist. A tailor. You make the most gorgeous pieces, Garak, you really do. What you’re wearing now is fabulous and I’m half-sure you’re in your pyjamas. Even your most destructive code sequences have a fluidity to them that I find... frankly, irresistible.” Julian blushed, smiling at his lap as Garak gave a happy chirrup. “You’ve told me too many times how ‘attractive’ _I_ am,” Julian admitted, with a shy smile. “Obviously we both like to pretend you’re joking, but...”

“But neither of us are especially fond of honesty,” Garak finished.

“No,” Julian agreed. He smiled wider, biting his lip.

“Beauty fades,” he added, eyes on Garak’s lap, as the smile dimmed, then came back, gentler and sweeter. “Fashions change; artwork is outgrown; stories are out-progressed; people grow old, sometimes without much grace, as unfair as it is.”

Their eyes met.

“No. Not just beauty. Not merely honesty. What really sustains a relationship is... trust,” Julian said, a lilt of surprise in his voice, which vanished immediately, and he repeated, “Trust. Trust that... we wouldn’t hurt each other too badly, or for too long. Or at all, if it can be helped. Trust... that we’d have each other’s backs. Lie for each other. Reveal the truth when it’s the right time. Trust that—” Julian swallowed, “that you’ll come back to me eventually. Trust that... Garak...? You’ll come _home_.”

Garak searched Julian’s eyes. Julian’s heart thumped, expecting that any moment now, Garak would realise how Julian felt about him, and would finally give in, and return to the nest he’d been building and the mate he’d won over so long ago.

In those moments, Julian could have wept for the relief he felt, as he understood so much about himself now. It all came to him in a rush of pain and pleasure that crushed tightly in his chest; he wasn’t just _interested_ in Garak. He loved him. Trusted him. Valued his insights, the game they’d been playing – win, lose, draw – and would desperately welcome his touch if it ever came. Oh, no _wonder_ he missed him so badly.

Garak felt like nothing under Julian’s hand.

Julian curled a fist and withdrew, sniffing once, carelessly. “Ah. Anyway. That’s how I’d answer. Did you...?”

“Yes,” Garak said. “Trust.”

Another beat of silence, breathless.

Then Garak resettled on the sofa and made a thinking noise, remarking, “Ah, my result is ready. Shall I see what impressive opinions this so-called ‘Cupid Computer’ has to offer?”

Julian shrugged like he didn’t mind.

Garak checked Julian’s expression, then warily accepted the game’s results.

Julian kept his eyes on Garak, waiting for a tell; a flicker, a press of a lip; anything to betray his emotion. But seconds passed and there was nothing. He only stared at the screen. Didn’t even blink. He poked once at the padd, and remained unreactive. Then he forced a small laugh, and said, carelessly, “Not one viable result. How disappointing.”

“Am I not on there?” Julian asked. “Like I said, I had to force it to add you. We’re not at the same location, that’s why.”

Garak made a noncommittal noise, eyelids halfway lowered in disinterest.

Julian inched closer, but couldn’t see the padd screen as it was too close to Garak’s chest. With a heavy sigh, Julian drawled, “Ugh, don’t tell me – it put your worst enemy at the top of the list. Figures. It’s a waste of electrons, this game. I knew it before I even tried it. I’m with Miles on this one.”

With a sigh and a slap of hands to his knees, Julian got up. “Tea? Oh—” he laughed to himself. “Sorry. Five-and-a-quarter lightyears too distant to hand you tea. A problem easily remedied, however. If you’d ever take a hint, that is.”

“I could say the same of you,” Garak said.

“What?” Julian glanced at the replicator, ordered “Tarkalean tea, extra sweet,” then returned to Garak and sat by him, hands around his mug.

“Doctor,” Garak said curtly. “When you happened to complete your game, having appropriated my entire library of personal logs within mere heartbeats, and you were then presented with a result... A percentage...”

“Yes?” Julian replied.

Garak gulped, then asked, plainly, “What exactly did you take the result to mean?”

“Nothing,” Julian frowned. “It’s a computer, it can’t read minds. It knows jack-squat about how love and trust and mutual respect work, even Miles said so.”

Garak looked at him. “Love?”

Julian’s lips parted, and he hurriedly glanced away, putting his mug of tea down on the knee-height table. “Well, _care_ , I mean. Between people.”

A tentative smile twitched on Garak’s lips. “And,” he said, “while poking around in the game’s code, did you happen to find out how it comes to its conclusions?”

Julian shrugged. “Scours through personal logs and any other documents on file. I suspect it read the correspondence you and I exchanged. The general idea is that it looks up the names of people near to your location, counts out the number of mentions, and cross-references by the vocal tone and-or the kinds of words used in the surrounding context. Positive words or negative words, and so on. Miles and Keiko bicker a lot, and they complain in their personal logs, so the program thought they hated each other. Wrong, obviously. And then it adds keywords of topics you like to the mix, like, say, tennis, or medicine. Three of the people on my list are my own chronically-ill patients, no surprises there. Apparently we all talk about medical issues a lot.”

Garak chuckled a little, a twinge of what looked like relief relaxing his face and lowering his shoulders – but then Julian wasn’t so sure, and wondered if it was not relief, but defeat.

“But,” Julian said slowly, still searching his friend’s face for a tell, “Garak...?” His breath caught.

Garak waited for more, eyes hopping between Julian’s.

“W-What,” Julian stammered. “Garak, what score did it give... me?”

“Oh, a hundred percent,” Garak said derisively. “I’m sure it went wrong somewhere.”

“A _hundred_ —?”

Garak showed Julian the padd, and there was his name, the only Human name among Cardassian names, glowing at the top. There were pink hearts beside it, and a banner that read _Perfect Match!!_

Julian was dumbfounded. “Th-Th-Th-That’s not. How is that—?” He scrambled for his own padd, and brought up his own results.

Garak’s name now had _Perfect Match!!_ beside it.

“It didn’t— Garak, I swear, when I got my results, it didn’t say that. It was only ninety-nine-point-six. That’s all.”

Garak gave Julian a blank, almost baleful look. “Thus I reiterate, doctor: it seems you are especially hard to convince of anything. How much more of a hint might you need?”

Julian gaped. “What?”

“My _dear_ , dear _doctor_! I came here tonight under the impression that you had already looked though my logs and found... a hundred, a _thousand_ mentions of your name. Said with as much affection as any man could muster. You tell me now it was a mere program, but are you so blind now that you still think—” Garak sighed, eyes rising. “Augmented or not, it’s obvious very little was done to your emotional processing.”

He got up and wandered away, shaking his head.

“Ghh...” Julian blinked. “What?”

“Say ‘what’ one more time and that perfect score might start to drop,” Garak said with a smile. “Some great conversationalist you are.”

“Garak.” Julian put down the padd, got to his feet, and padded up to his friend, placing himself before him. Garak gazed at him with a comfortable smile and a relaxed kind of affection, lazy eyes lowering to Julian’s lips, then back to meet his dumbfounded stare.

Theories were starting to feel less like theories, and the reality of them began to feel weighty, hugging Julian’s stomach and pulling on his hands, sticking his tongue to his palate. His heart ached in a good, if nervous way.

“Garak,” he said again, becoming a whisper now... “If that score is... genuine...?”

“I believe it is.”

“Then?” Julian’s breath hitched. “What have you been saying about me, Garak?”

“That I miss you,” Garak said, deeply resigned. “With every breath. That I hate any world, any planet, any _life_ without you, that – that you’re—” He squeezed fists at his sides, eyes cast away briefly. “You won’t let me forget you. You won’t let me move on. And I hate you for that. Oh, I’ve tried, doctor, I’ve tried, I’ve tried to break apart from you and your snivelling, buoyant way of life that you conditioned into me while living here. But no lunchtime repartee is a match for yours. No lover is kind enough, or beautiful enough; there’s nobody I trust as completely as I’ve trusted you. I’ve said that I love you, doctor. Julian. I do. And I hate you for it.”

Julian struggled to find a breath, and finally swallowed it down unbreathed, lips shivering before he steadied at last, and asked, “If you feel that way about me, why in God’s _name_ did you leave?”

Garak turned his eyes to the photo of Julian and Ezri, and Julian followed his gaze.

“Oh,” Julian said, heart sinking. He covered his face with both hands. “ _Oh_.”

“She has the benefit of being the one lover you’ve taken who I cannot chase away,” Garak admitted, voice heavy. “She is... spectacular. Every bit as kind and outgoing and clever as you, if not more so. And I like her. If I were to leave you in anyone’s hands it would have been hers. But she outshines me.” Garak lifted his chin bravely, eyes glazed with tears. “You ask why I haven’t come back, and why my letters have been so lacking compared to yours. I hope, in any case, this explains things.”

“Garak,” Julian said, slumping his weight to one side, hands falling to his sides. “For God’s sake. She and I aren’t—”

“Aren’t what? Aren’t happy together?”

“Well, I suppose you could say that.”

“And no wonder! I thought you purposefully enticed me here tonight with your illegal actions,” Garak said. “I thought you had found _out_ , doctor, I thought you’d realised how I felt. Believe me, I intended to keep this information to myself. I came here to apologise, and say goodbye to you for good. But you’re telling me now that you took this ridiculous ‘quiz’, so desperate to fantasise about what _you and I_ might have, and yet you’re still—” Garak’s jaw flickered in anger.

“Tell me, doctor,” he said, eyes lowered away from Julian’s, “what score did the game give you and Ezri?”

Julian shook his head. “Not as high as yours.”

Garak looked more upset. “Oh, how I wish that made me happy. My feelings for you – this distance— How fitting it is: you can only choose one. But Julian, I refuse to hurt Dax. The fact you let me proceed with this game despite knowing the high chance you and I would be matched – I recoil to think you’d be so willing to _betray_ the woman you claim to care so much about. Especially after claiming you value trust.”

Julian laughed, which only made Garak sneer at him with even more distaste.

“Garak,” Julian chuckled. “Oh, you scaly, grey fool.”

“...Excuse me?”

Julian grinned. “Garak, me and Ezri broke up. Tonight, last night, the evening just gone. That’s why I played the stupid game. And then you showed up here and—” He drew in a big, encouraging breath, and admitted, “Now I’m realising that I’m... sort of... in love with you. A little bit. A lot. Wildly. Wildly in love with you.”

Garak blinked a few times.

“I don’t intend to _cheat_ on her, Garak.” Julian sighed, warmly. “But I’m sure she’d be more than touched that you placed her happiness over the obvious amount of pain you’ve put yourself though. As am I. But I’d really, really wish you’d stop.”

Julian stepped closer, wishing the fingers he set to Garak’s cheek didn’t pass right through and make Garak glitch.

“Garak,” Julian said, as their eyes met. “Come to Deep Space Nine.”

He leaned in and gave Garak’s lips a little, pointless kiss. He pulled back again, and smiled, meeting Garak’s astonished eyes.

“Come home.”

  
**※**  


Julian waited by the airlock where the ship from Cardassia was slated to dock. He was dressed in his smartest mufti (shiny blue top with asymmetric V-neck collar, tight white trousers), hands wringing at his sides, trying to keep his heart and breath steady. Even with genetic enhancements that allowed him to control his vital signs, calming down a heart fluttering with lovesick anticipation was far too grand a task.

Sensing eyes on him, he turned, and spied Ezri paused in the hallway not far away, trying to smile.

Julian returned her smile with a huge and disarming grin, which left her pleasantly confused. She came closer, much like a squirrel approaching an outstretched hand, but relaxed when she got close, and tucked her hands behind her back.

“How are you doing?” she asked.

Julian gave her an even bigger grin. “You know that game everyone’s raving about? The Cupi—”

“Cupid Computer,” she finished. “Yeh-huh. Can’t get away from that thing. Even Kira tried to get me to play. What about it?”

Julian ducked his head, beaming at his shiny sandals. “I, um.”

Ezri waited, curious.

Julian glanced at her. Then he looked up out of the airlock, seeing the Cardassian ship approaching. His heart flipped twice in his chest. “Oh. Pray for me, it’s happening.”

Ezri pondered this non-answer, then reached to pat him on the shoulder. “Whoever it is...? I hope she’s whatever you’ve been longing for all this time, Julian. Really.”

Julian laughed, both hands on his stomach. He giggled, and snickered, then looked at his shorter friend with fondness bursting from his chest. “Me too,” he said.

Ezri patted him again, then went on her way... but paused some distance down the hallway, curious...

Julian set her presence out of his mind, at first by force, then without a thought, as the ship’s first airlock door rolled free, and all he saw was the white light from inside the docked ship.

A grey shape appeared, trudging forth, head down. He wore something purple and tight-fitting, carrying a shoulder bag so heavy and overstuffed that it was obvious he intended to stay more than a few days. He carried his tailor’s kit in the other hand.

The second airlock door rolled open, and Garak stepped out...

He looked up into Julian’s eyes, and Julian was immediately lightheaded and giddy with delight.

“Doctor,” Garak said.

Julian smiled. “Garak.”

They stared for a moment.

Then Julian stepped forward and patted Garak on the shoulder. “Good to see you.”

“Oh, yes.” Garak’s eyes shone. “You have no idea.”

“I have some idea,” Julian countered.

“I’m sure.”

They stared a bit longer, Julian’s hand still on Garak’s collar.

Then he inched forward, wanting more...

They embraced, a little awkwardly, Julian’s arms around Garak’s biceps, as Garak held up his heavy baggage. Julian realised that wasn’t ideal, and apologised, backing up, taking Garak’s things and putting them down for him.

They stared again – then Garak opened his arms, requesting another hug, a proper one this time.

Julian fell into him with a small huff of joy, eyes shut as his cheek touched Garak’s shoulder, and, soon, Garak’s hand cradled the back of Julian’s head, putting a comforting pressure there.

Julian’s body melted into his friend’s, and they squeezed tighter, breathing deep, slow. Julian couldn’t believe they’d never done this before.

Garak rested his nose on Julian’s forehead, breathing out until his lungs were empty.

Julian started to blush, supposing the hug was growing rather extended. He pulled back in uncertain increments, checking with Garak that it was okay; their eyes met, and Julian’s lips parted...

In a sparkling-hot rush of desire, Julian moved in for a kiss, just as Garak did. Hands sank deep into Julian’s hair. Julian’s fingers spread around Garak’s ear ridges. Hot, dry lips rasped and pressed hard, too roughly, until they were slicked wet by the tip of Julian’s tongue. Open mouths, breaths shared – a helpless little noise came whimpering from the back of Garak’s throat, tender enough that Julian’s entire body erupted in tingles, and he turned his head, smooching deeper, nuzzling into Garak’s burning cheek.

Heads turned the other way, smiles messing up their barely-there rhythm.

So instead they pressed, and pressed, and didn’t move, holding onto each other, relaxing into their new affection. What a gesture. Oh, what a gesture.

They finally slipped apart, breathless, sore-lipped and dark-eyed. Julian panted over Garak’s lips, still smiling. Garak held Julian’s face like a precious thing, looking at him in a way nobody ever had before. This was a man for whom a lifetime of wishes had all come true at once.

Julian realised, as they kissed again, unable to help it, that maybe all of his own wishes had come true too. Patience did have its rewards, Garak said once. Of course he was right, but only because he’d claim he was right any time something good happened. Wait long enough and it would.

Okay, maybe that was the point.

Julian broke the kiss for air, laughing as he wiped spittle from his lip with his knuckles. Garak kept on holding his waist, and they remained there, just enjoying each other. Sweet almond perfume swept Julian’s senses, and he breathed it in, at long last.

“Tell me,” Garak said, his voice a little wrecked, and happily so, “what do you feel, now?”

Julian glanced away, to Ezri, and saw her smiling, a hand on her heart. She gave him a thumbs-up. Julian then looked to Garak’s lips, pink at the seam, then down to their connected chests, Julian’s hands clutching Garak’s clothes. “Relief,” Julian realised. “Overwhelming, immensely gratifying _relief_. This is... This feels right. I – I feel a weight lifted, not just physically, but – from my life? Wow.” He swallowed. “You? What are you feeling now?”

“Pure joy,” Garak said without hesitation. He tucked curled fingers under Julian’s chin, and brought him in for another, very nice kiss. It was only a short one, but left them both smiling, twinkling like starlight inside. “Patience, my dear doctor, often has its rewards.”

“I knewwwwww you were going to say that,” Julian groaned, head back.

“How worrisome,” Garak said. “It appears a year apart from your company has left me predictable. And we can’t have that. Lunch, dear doctor?” He stepped back and offered a crooked arm. “Or is it time for dinner? I’m somewhat shuttle-lagged.”

Julian collected up the bags, handed one to Garak, then took his arm, beaming at him as he did. “I’d love both, my dear tailor. And breakfast in the morning.”

“Ah.” They stepped on, Garak looking forwards rather than at Julian’s face for the first time since boarding. “I dare say I really rather miss the Replimat. Or perhaps Quark’s; I’d like to see what state the bar is in without Odo’s constant presence.”

“Surprisingly normal,” Julian admitted. “But there is a bubble machine on the upper balcony now. It’s quite the sensation.”

“Bubbles!”

Julian laughed. “You like bubbles, do you?”

“Like most, doctor, I do appreciate rekindling my lost youth. And who better to that with than an old friend?”

Julian hummed. “Not so old. Just a friend.”

Garak was quiet for a few beats.

“What?” Julian prompted.

“Oh, just wondering,” Garak said airily, as they headed away from the Docking Ring, taking slow steps. “It’s one thing to be someone’s closest friend, to be romantic with them, and to engage in, if I may say, some sexual conduct when the moment is right – but the real question is, doctor, would you truly wish to grow old with _me_?”

Julian scoffed, giving Garak a blithe look. “Of course I want to grow old with you, Garak. I thought that was the _point_. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”

Garak smiled, and smiled, and his smile grew until it wrinkled beside his eyes and made his cheeks pudgy. “Indeed. In that case, I do believe we have one Miles O’Brien to thank, for sending you that peculiar little game of his.”

“Ohhh,” Julian groaned, gleefully. “He’s going to _explode_ when he finds out you and me got together because of him.”

“But he would be grateful, surely,” Garak supposed, looking at Julian as they neared the turbolift. “A friend as good as Mr. O’Brien would no doubt be delighted to note that his long-time companion is happily engaged in...” Garak lowered his hand and slipped his into Julian’s to hold it, “a relationship as mutually fulfilling as this one promises to be.”

Julian let Garak lead him into the turbolift, and he stood by his side, gazing at him with something especially lovely swirling in his chest. “I think you’re right,” he said.

“Of course I’m right,” Garak said smugly, as the doors started to close. “One-hundred percent.”

  
**{ the end }**

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!! I hope your 2020 is the year of no nuisance emails in your inbox, and the right people popping into your life when you least expect it. c:
> 
> ☆ [reblog art](https://almaasi.tumblr.com/post/189910426925/heres-a-12k-post-canon-garashir-fic-the-cupid)  
> ☆ [reblog opening lines](https://almaasi.tumblr.com/post/189910849015/the-cupid-computer)
> 
> [More Garashir fics here!](https://archiveofourown.org/works?utf8=%E2%9C%93&commit=Sort+and+Filter&work_search%5Bsort_column%5D=revised_at&include_work_search%5Bfandom_ids%5D%5B%5D=8474&work_search%5Bother_tag_names%5D=&work_search%5Bexcluded_tag_names%5D=&work_search%5Bcrossover%5D=&work_search%5Bcomplete%5D=&work_search%5Bwords_from%5D=&work_search%5Bwords_to%5D=&work_search%5Bdate_from%5D=&work_search%5Bdate_to%5D=&work_search%5Bquery%5D=&work_search%5Blanguage_id%5D=&user_id=almaasi) And there's more coming weekly, or semi-weekly!
> 
> Elmie x


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